


Too Tired

by bittycanbake (hit_the_books)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/bittycanbake
Summary: The Aces have had a rough game against the New York Rangers. So Kent doesn't exactly feel like complaining when he realizes there's been a mistake with his and Troy's room.





	Too Tired

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ManhattanProject](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManhattanProject/gifts).



> I really hope you like this, ManhattanProject. This is only the second story I've written in this fandom, so I was kinda nervous.
> 
> And thanks to [pongpalace](http://pongpalace.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this for me C:

Kent’s pretty damn sure his legs are going to fall off his body at any second. Like maybe he should actually slow down a little, because it could happen; they’re aching in ways that he’s sure shouldn’t be possible. Behind him, Troy gives a low pained grunt and Kent feels for the guy, because Troy was in one of the roughest scrimmages of their whole game against the Rangers.

Both of them played, were double-shifted in the third, because they’d lost waaaaaaaay too many players to injury in the first two periods. It had been a battle to hold onto to their one goal lead. But they’d done it, they’d won—and no one had felt like celebrating in New York City. Bodies kinda broken and battered making a Halloween themed victory night out sound like the worst idea. Even to Kent “Party My Glorious Ass Off” Parson.

Kent looks down at the piece of card in his hand that has their room number on it, and then looks up again. “Almost there...”

He stops outside room 503. The door’s solid and imposing, red stained wood with a peephole, brass handle beside a key swipe.

Troy almost collides into him, but Kent manages to hold out a steadying hand and keeps Troy from pulling them both over. A teeny part of him feels guilty for not being able to have helped Troy out of the pile of bodies that had become that one painful scrum, but he’s kinda a bit smaller than Troy and those D men from the Rangers were the opposite of small.

It’s a struggle keeping Troy upright and juggling their keycard and bags, but Kent manages it and steers Troy inside their room while flipping on a light. He pulls off his jacket, switching hands to keep Troy on his feet as he does. The chill Halloween temperatures necessitated the jacket—Kent’s really lost his cold weather endurance since moving out to Vegas.

“Look, just go sit on your bed or something and then you can, y’know, take your jacket-” Kent stops when he notices that Troy’s not listening to him. He looks further into the room where their beds are… or would be, but there’s only one giant California king in the middle of the room.

“Uhhhhhhhhh...” Troy shifts on his feet, clearly unsure what to do or say.

“Well it figures we’d get back from the most exhausting game of the season so far, only to have one bed. Oh for...” Kent checks the time on his cell. It’s gone midnight. He aches so deep and he knows that he can’t be bothered to call down to the front desk and get this mess sorted out.

“It’s big enough,” Kent proclaims, a nervous tingle running down his back. He mentally shakes himself to get a grip. That it’s just one night in a really huge bed. One night. Together. Kent gulps.

Troy glances up at him, cheeks pink, and he nods. “R-right.” He scrubs his hand through his short brown locks, making his hair stick up in every which way.

Kent stifles a groan, because that’s a good look on his teammate, and wanders over to his suitcase, which has made it into the room. “It’s a shame we didn’t get to check in before the game. Stupid delays.”

“Yeah… stupid delays,” Troy mimics and he takes off his own jacket and slides off his boots.

The two of them end up brushing their teeth together. Kent keeps stealing sideway glances at Troy and has to battle not to swallow large amounts of toothpaste when he does. If he’s being honest with himself, maybe he’s wondered a few times what it would feel like to be held by Troy and to have something he hasn’t had in a long while. Not a one night anything—he’s had plenty of that since signing on with the Aces—but something real. Something permanent. Having Troy room with him on away games has become something he looks forward to, and Troy seems to enjoy their rooming together too.

After they brush their teeth, both take some Tylenol to try and help with their post game aches, and then they take it in turns to shower, each hoping the heat from the water will further ease their bodies. Kent lets Troy go first, because he looks like he needs it and Kent looks after his friends.

Finally it’s Kent’s turn to use the shower and he heads on in, wash bag in tow. He gets the water to the hottest he can stand and steps in behind the glass wall. A little moan escapes him as the heat hits skin, sinking into his muscles and Kent’s mind goes blissfully blank. It’s automatic the way he washes up, and maybe he gets a little hard while he washes himself—which is near impossible to not have happen—and then he’s done.

Kent steps into the bedroom, dressed just in sleep pants, the temperature of the hotel room just right and the plush carpet soft under his feet. His hair toweled hair is slicked back against his head. He notices Troy’s already under the covers, somehow a bit more awake and now looking at his cell while on the far right side of the bed. In fact he’s so far over that Kent worries he’ll fall out of it.

Heading over to the bed, Kent wastes no time getting under the covers, sliding near the middle. His cell’s on the left bedside table, charging, alarm ready to get them up in time for their morning flight. Kent glances over at Troy, whose hair is a bit drier.

“Uh… this bed’s pretty big, y’know.” Kent clears his throat. “Like, you don’t need to be so far over.”

Troy looks over at Kent and then at the distance between them. “I… okay.” Troy shimmies across the bed a little, moving nearer the middle. There’s a foot of space between them and Kent can feel Troy’s warmth radiating out.

“Oh, the lights!” Kent quickly shimmies back over to his side, while Troy does the same and they both switch off their bedside lamps.

Without prompting, they retreat to their previous positions, only in the darkness they’re closer to each other this time. Kent doesn’t say anything, just lays his head back on the pillows and closes his eyes, willing his mind to be still so he can get some sleep.

Only he can’t fall asleep, because Troy’s shaking beside him. After five minutes of Troy’s minute tremors, Kent turns his head towards his teammate and quietly asks, “You okay?”

“Yep,” Troy replies, voice clipped and nervous.

Kent licks his lips. “You so aren’t.” And okay, maybe he could have been more tactful.

Troy gulps in a large mouthful of air. “Just, uh, a bit shaky from the game. Y’know, adrenaline...” his voice trails off.

Kent rolls onto his left side and in the gloom of their hotel room, he can vaguely see the tip of Troy’s nose. It’s a cute nose.

“Right.” Kent worries at his bottom lip and then reaches a hand out towards Troy, easily bridging the little distance between them. He touches Troy’s shoulder and Troy lets out a long breath the shaking calming a little.

“Swoops?” Kent asks in a voice so much smaller than he usually speaks with.

Troy shifts, turning to face Kent in the darkness. “Parse… look, I-”

And without warning, Kent leans in across their pillows and presses his lips to Troy’s, because it seems like the thing to do. He pulls back a little and asks, “Is this okay?”

Troy lets out a slightly strangled whine, and reaches a hand out to Kent to grip his hip. “Please,” he says softly, breath ghosting across Kent’s face. “I… please.” Troy tugs Kent closer.

Something clicks inside Kent’s head. The movie marathons in their rooms. Casual touches whenever they sit together. Worrying about Kent’s partying, even on his milder nights. Kent’s heart aches in a way different to the rest of his body, and he cups Troy’s cheek, brings their lips together again. And again. And again.

Breathless, light headed, Kent pulls back an inch so they can grab some air. “Swoops...”

“Parse...”

They kiss again, deeper, needier. Two stupid boys who just didn’t realize that for two seasons they’ve been dancing apart when they could have been on the floor together, moving in harmony. Kent only mentally kicks himself a little, because he’s too busy focusing on the taste and feel of Troy.

At some point they fall asleep, Kent in Troy’s arms. Kent wakes up before his alarm, warm and still a little sleepy. There’s a beam of sunlight hitting the top of their pillows, making Troy look like he has a little halo. It’s cute, so Kent leans over to grab his cell and snaps a photo.

Sighing, he puts his cell down and curls up against Troy again. Troy’s arms curl around Kent just that extra bit tighter. Kent drifts into a doze, not caring that they’ll have to wake up sooner rather than later.


End file.
